by Jill Kemerer
“How are you, little sweet pea?” He tickled the bottoms of her feet and she squealed in delight. “You’re awfully happy tonight. Did Mommy give you a treat or something?” He unstrapped her and lifted her into his arms.
“No treats. She just likes you. I made a light supper so we could finish this up.”
His face fell. “What do you want me to do?”
“Let’s eat first.” She tweaked Henry’s nose and he opened his mouth in a smile. “I’ve got to set this little guy down. Help yourself to a sloppy joe. They’re on the stove.”
After getting Henry settled, she fixed herself a plate and joined Judd at the table. “So what did you do today?”
She probably shouldn’t be asking him about his day, but she loved hearing what he did on the ranch. It was so foreign to her indoor life.
He still held Amelia in one arm as he ate. “Checked fence. Fed cows. Made sure our pregnant gals are doing okay. The usual.”
“Think the snow will come back tonight?”
“I don’t think so. It’s supposed to be real cold, though.” He met her eyes and her mouth went dry. He was so handsome. “What about your day? Did you finish the pies for the Seymours?”
How could she put distance between them when he actually asked about her day and seemed to care?
“I did. Rodney picked them up this afternoon. I have two yule logs to make tomorrow and I’ll be done until New Year’s.”
“How did the new flavors go for the pie? Did you try the apple and cranberry?”
“I did. I added a brown sugar crumble to make sure it wasn’t too tart.”
His eyes gleamed with appreciation as he nodded. They continued eating in silence, and she couldn’t help looking ahead and missing these times. But putting an end to this had to be done.
She knew it was necessary. It didn’t mean she had to like it.
“All we have to do is attach the roof. Then we’ll be able to add all the front yard decorations.” If she kept her focus on the house, she could avoid dealing with the pain in her heart. “I bought wafer candies for the roof shingles. We’ll have to wait until the roof is set to put them on, though.”
“You’ve thought of everything. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“You already have.” And she meant it. He owed her nothing. And she owed him...so much.
“What are you doing Christmas Day?” he asked.
She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t make plans. All she knew was she’d dreaded it for 364 days, and if she got to December 26 without completely falling apart, she’d be okay.
“Aunt Gretchen is having a small dinner,” he said. “You should come.”
She wanted to. It would be nice to be with Judd and his aunt at her cute little house in town. No thoughts about Aaron or ICUs or dreaded doctors or the final moments she’d rebelled against with every fiber in her being.
“I don’t think so.” Grabbing her napkin, she covered her lips and tried to get her emotions under control. When she was reasonably sure she’d pushed away the pain, she looked up. Judd watched her intently.
“Is this about last night?” he asked. “I didn’t mean... I should have... I... Well, I don’t know what to say.”
Was he trying to apologize for kissing her? She almost started laughing. Maybe she was losing it or something. From pending tears to the uncontrollable urge to cackle in a split second.
“It’s not about last night, Judd.” She actually sounded composed. “Maybe a little. I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just enjoy finishing the house.”
He blinked in surprise. She didn’t want to hurt him. She also didn’t want to discuss it when her insides were such a whirlwind.
Suppers together had been the best thing she had going, and she could finally admit it—she needed them to end.
Before she made a fool of herself.
She wasn’t in a position to give him what he wanted. She was a widow with three babies, and she owed her dead husband the honor of waiting a respectable time before attempting a new relationship.
After tomorrow night, the gingerbread house would be finished. The following day was Christmas Eve. She’d wait until then to have a heart-to-heart with Judd. And she’d try to enjoy what time she had left with him until then. As friends.
* * *
Judd shifted the shopping bags to his left hand and opened the door to Cattle Drive Coffee. He’d picked up Christmas presents for the triplets—stuffed horses and three T-shirts that each said Ho. He chuckled thinking of the babies lined up with shirts saying Ho, Ho, Ho. He also found a pink apron with Bakers Gotta Bake written on it for Nicole. He had one more stop to make before heading back to the ranch and helping Nicole put the final touches on the gingerbread house, but first, he needed a strong cup of coffee.
Nicole’s cryptic words last night when he’d made the lame attempt at an apology for kissing her had been circling his brain.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. It jeopardized their friendship. He could feel her putting on the brakes.
“Can I help you?” A teenage girl stood behind the counter.
“I’ll take a black coffee to go.”
Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe Nicole was just struggling with memories from last year.
The bell above the door clanged. He paid the girl, accepted the cup from her and turned to leave. Ryder Fanning, Mason’s identical twin, was flanked by his twin four-year-old daughters.
“Can I get hot chocolate, Daddy?” One of the girls lifted big eyes to Ryder.
“I want some, too!”
“With whipped cream?” Ryder smiled at each of them.
“And marshmallows!” they said in unison.
“We’re on Christmas vacation.” Ryder chuckled. “You can get whatever you want.”
Judd walked forward and nodded to him. “Ryder.”
“Oh, hey, Judd. How are you doing?”
“Good. I didn’t know you were coming into town.”
“Yeah, we’re staying with Mason and Brittany.”
“We’re going to make a snowman with Noah!” One of the girls jumped up, clapping her hands.
Noah was Mason’s four-year-old son. Judd smiled at both the girls. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Last year we made a big fort.” The other twin spread her arms wide. “We’re going to make another one, right, Daddy?”
“I don’t see why not.” Ryder pushed them forward. “Why don’t you two pick out your cookies while I catch up with Judd a minute?”
They raced to the front counter.
“How long are you in town for?” Judd asked.
“Until the third of January. But next year...well, I’ve been thinking about moving here permanently.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I want to get the girls out of the city. Let them run around on a big old ranch the way I did growing up. I’ve been talking to Mason about it, and I might have found the opportunity I’ve been searching for.”
“Would you work with him?” Judd wouldn’t be surprised if Mason partnered up with his twin brother.
“No. He has his own land, and I want my own, too.” Ryder stared off into space with a gleam in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips. “It’s up in the air at the moment, but I’m hoping the girls and I will be residents of Rendezvous come spring. What are you up to? Looks like you’re getting in some last-minute shopping.” He hitched his chin to the bags in Judd’s hands.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Daddy, can we get the big chocolate chip cookies?” The twins ran back over to them, tugging on Ryder’s arm. “When do we get to see Auntie Eden?”
Ryder frowned. “Yes, you can get the cookies.”
“Can Auntie Eden come over tonight?”
“No.” His sharp tone su
rprised Judd. “She has her own life, girls.”
“Well, I won’t keep you.” Judd nodded to him.
“I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” Ryder followed the girls to the counter.
Judd opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. In a few short years the triplets would be begging for big cookies and bouncing off the walls about making a fort and a snowman. He wouldn’t mind if they dragged him to the counter.
He wouldn’t mind if they called him Daddy.
Frowning, Judd strolled to the last store on his list. He was getting Nicole a special gift. Whatever she felt for him didn’t matter. He wanted her to have something meaningful, and he knew exactly what to get her. Maybe in time she’d be ready for a relationship with him. He’d just have to be patient.
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas Eve had arrived, and Nicole bristled with pent-up tension. She pushed the curtain back from the living room window to check if Judd was on his way. No sign of him yet. She’d asked him to stop by when he finished his ranch chores. He’d told her he’d stop by at two. The babies were napping. So far, Christmas Eve had been like most other days, except without any outside help. Thoughts of Aaron and last Christmas kept assaulting her, and she, in turn, kept pushing them away.
Her nerves had been frazzled all day. What she was about to do was going to break her heart. It was going to break Judd’s, too. She couldn’t pretend these feelings weren’t mutual. Not after his kiss on Monday.
Last night had been bittersweet, she and Judd treading lightly while working together to finish his aunt’s gift. He’d helped attach the pink wafer candies to the roof. They’d also lined a sidewalk path to the gingerbread house with small marshmallows and added a yard made out of white frosting. Green Christmas trees and pink candies completed the scene. The gingerbread house was an enchanting replica of Gretchen’s childhood home. Judd had taken it back to his house when they finished.
A knock on the door made her jump. Her pulse went from zero to sixty in two seconds flat. Nicole made her way to the door, dreading every step. This wasn’t how she wanted Christmas Eve to go down. Last year had been horrendous. This year wouldn’t be much better.
After smoothing her sweater, she pulled her shoulders back and opened the door.
Judd’s jacket was open. He had a Stetson on his head, a dark T-shirt stretched across his chest, and jeans skimmed his hips. His eyes drew her in, made her want to chuck her dumb plan and wrap her arms around him instead.
He took off his hat as he entered. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
“Same to you.” Her voice sounded too high, too bright. The way Judd was looking at her made her face warm. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Where are the babies?” He took a seat on the couch, his knees wide, as he looked around.
“Napping.” She went to the kitchen and took a deep breath, then carried the box of cupcakes she’d made him to the living room and set them on the end table. Then she selected a wrapped box from under the tree and brought it over to him. “I wanted to give you your present.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” His lips curved into a surprised smile at the sight of the shiny red wrapping paper.
“Yes, I did. I wanted to. You’ve done so much for me.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he said seriously.
Friends. Turning away, she winced. He’d been the friend she’d needed for a long time. But her feelings kept tipping past the friend point. And now...
This wasn’t going to end well.
“Go ahead and open it.” She sat kitty-corner from him, keenly aware of the envelope she’d slipped into her pocket. He loosened the side flaps of the paper and carefully unwrapped the box. A quick glance her way made her feel even guiltier as he lifted the top off it. Then he pulled out the soft wool blanket she’d ordered.
“Wow, this is nice.” He held it up, and it almost hurt to see the gratitude shining in his expression.
She gestured to the box on the end table. “I have a box of cupcakes for you, too. Death by chocolate.”
“You baked for me?” His smile grew even broader. “Thank you.”
The envelope in her pocket burned against her leg. You have to give it to him. You know you do.
She tugged it out, reached over and handed it to him before her mushy heart convinced her not to. “This is for you, too.”
“What is it?” His forehead furrowed. He opened it, and his frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m earning an income now.” She held herself stiffly with her hands in her lap. “I want to pay you rent.”
“Rent?” He shook his head. “I told you I don’t want your money.” He closed the envelope, pushing it away from him.
“But I want you to have it.” Her voice rose. “I need to pay my own way.”
“What’s this about?” He shook his head. “Save your money. You need it more than I do.”
“It’s not about that.” She squirmed, keeping her attention on her hands in her lap. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, Judd.” No truer words had been spoken. “But the gingerbread house is finished, and I...”
Understanding dawned as his expression darkened. “You don’t want me coming around for supper anymore.”
She didn’t know how to reply, so she sat there silently.
“Am I just a landlord to you?” The color in his face drained.
“No, of course not, but this—” she waved her hand between him and her “—is going too fast.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We can slow it down...”
“No, we can’t.” She jumped to her feet and crossed over to the fireplace mantel. How could she make him understand? She whirled to face him. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“You can’t do what? Be happy?” He rose and joined her. She wanted to push him away, but he stood before her, and even now his arms beckoned. She craved his embrace.
“Like my mom, right?” she said. “All she cares about is being happy.”
“What’s wrong with being happy?” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. It shattered her. All the emotions and memories she’d been holding at bay crashed down.
“I can’t be happy. It’s not right!” The past and present collided in her brain. Last Christmas. This Christmas. What was happening?
“Nicole—”
“I’m not like everyone else. One year ago I was hunched in a chair next to my husband’s bed in the hospital.” Nicole wiped her palms down her cheeks. “I thought my life was over. I couldn’t see a future without Aaron in it.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Let me finish.” She held up a hand. “He was hooked up to machines. His cheeks were drawn. Eye sockets sunken. I knew he wasn’t going to make it, but I still begged God—begged Him—to let Aaron live.”
She could see it all. Her sad little self in black leggings and a long sweater. Hair unwashed, pulled behind her in a ponytail. She’d never felt so small, so alone in her life.
“His parents and sisters and I stood by his bed telling him how much we loved him. I stayed there after they went back to their hotel. His hand was in mine, and I talked to him until I fell asleep in the chair. I woke up on Christmas morning, and I thought he was sleeping, but he wasn’t. He’d passed away in the night. I thought my tears would never stop falling.”
The weight of it all crushed her. The smell of the hospital was in her nostrils, the sound of the machines and Aaron’s labored breathing were in her ears.
The fireplace mantel dug into her upper back, bringing her to the present.
“I loved him, Judd.” She looked into his blue eyes as her own misted. “He was there, and then he was gone.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, and her body began to tremble.
“He never came home, Judd.” She covered her face with
her hands. “He never came home.”
* * *
Judd sprang into action as Nicole’s knees buckled. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the couch, keeping her close to him. She buried her face into his chest. Heartbreaking sobs racked her body. He’d never felt this helpless in his life.
The slap of pain he’d felt when she told him she was paying him rent to let him know she didn’t want to spend time with him anymore was nothing compared to this.
For the first time, he fully understood why he couldn’t have Nicole.
She belonged to someone else.
He stroked her hair as she cried, wanting to comfort her any way he could. Her fists balled into his shirt, and the material grew wet with her tears. He held her closer, wishing he could take away all her pain.
Why had he fallen in love with her? Why couldn’t he have fallen for someone who would actually love him back?
Her sobs began to subside, but she didn’t move away from him. Her fingers gripped his shirt.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was the faintest of whispers.
“Don’t be.” He caressed her hair even as it ripped his heart open, knowing he’d never hold her again.
This was the last time he’d give his heart away.
It wasn’t his to give any longer.
It was hers. It would always be hers.
Soon, he’d slink back to his big house. Heat up frozen meals and eat his supper alone. He wanted to tell her she’d given him the best month of his life, but he wouldn’t. He’d never tell her the truth.
The presents he’d wrapped for her and the babies were back home under his Christmas tree. He’d been planning on bringing them over tomorrow. He still wanted her to have them. Maybe he’d just leave them on her doorstep. It would be less awkward that way.
He kept touching her hair, trying not to think about how depressing life was going to be without her friendship.
Kissing her the other night had been his biggest mistake. He never should have done it. If he hadn’t, they might still be friends. She wouldn’t have banished him. Wouldn’t have felt the need to give him rent and cut off their evenings together.